#imax

Man can never know the loneliness a woman knows. Man lies in the woman's womb only to gather strength, he nourishes himself from this fusion, and then he rises and goes into the world, into his work, into battle, into art. He is not lonely. He is busy. The memory of the swim in amniotic fluid gives him energy, completion. Woman may be busy too, but she feels empty. Sensuality for her is not only a wave of pleasure in which she is bathed, and a charge of electric joy at contact with another. When man lies in her womb, she is fulfilled, each act of love a taking of man within her, an act of birth and rebirth, of child rearing and man bearing. Man lies in her womb and is reborn each time anew with a desire to act, to be. But for woman, the climax is not in the birth, but in the moment man rests inside of her. ↗

— Anaïs Nin

#ecstasy #fulfillment #joy #love #men

The most emphatic place in a clause or sentence is the end. This is the climax; and, during the momentary pause that follows, that last word continues, as it were, to reverberate in the reader's mind. It has, in fact, the last word. ↗

— F. L. Lucas

#climax #continues #during #emphatic #end

Cornering is like bringing a woman to climax. ↗

— Jackie Stewart

#climax #like #woman

Music is much like fucking, but some composers can't climax and others climax too often, leaving themselves and the listener jaded and spent. ↗

— Charles Bukowski

#music #sex #music

Kaladin screamed, reaching the end of the bridge. Finding a tiny surge of strength somewhere, he raised his spear and threw himself off the end of the wooden platform, launching into the air above the cavernous void. Bridgemen cried out in dismay. Syl zipped about him with worry. Parshendi looked up with amazement as a lone bridgeman sailed through the air toward them. His drained, worn-out body barely had any strength left. In that moment of crystallized time, he looked down on his enemies. Parshendi with their marbled red and black skin. Soldiers raising finely crafted weapons, as if to cut him from the sky. Strangers, oddities in carapace breastplates and skullcaps. Many of them wearing beards. Beards woven with glowing gemstones. Kaladin breathed in. Like the power of salvation itself—like rays of sunlight from the eyes of the Almighty—Stormlight exploded from those gemstones. It streamed through the air, pulled in visible streams, like glowing columns of luminescent smoke. Twisting and turning and spiraling like tiny funnel clouds until they slammed into him. And the storm came to life again. ↗

— Brandon Sanderson

#climax #epiphany #inspirational #inspirational

Happiness is not a brilliant climax to years of grim struggle and anxiety. It is a long succession of little decisions simply to be happy in the moment. ↗

— J. Donald Walters

#be happy #brilliant #climax #decisions #grim

We want a story that starts out with an earthquake and works its way up to a climax. ↗

— Samuel Goldwyn

#earthquake #out #starts #story #up

Silences have a climax, when you have got to speak. ↗

— Elizabeth Bowen

#got #silences #speak #you

When the songs pop out, that's like the climax of us building. ↗

— John Otto

#climax #like #out #pop #songs

I like to compare the holiday season with the way a child listens to a favorite story. The pleasure is in the familiar way the story begins, the anticipation of familiar turns it takes, the familiar moments of suspense, and the familiar climax and ending. ↗

— Fred Rogers

#begins #child #climax #compare #ending